“I bought three,” he said. “Three what?” “Three plots.” His voice was gentle, always asking a question. It grew softer every day he was sick. Phan’s hair, so black and beautifully thick, had turned gray in a month and he wore it cut close to his scalp now. “We should all be together. That is the truth, the three of us are family. I don’t want you to be alone.” Sabine kept her eyes down. Through the generosity of the offer she saw that she was alone. Even in death she would be the third party, along for the ride. It got darker every minute they waited. The birds were almost quiet. Phan patted
...more
sobbed
